L.  B.  PEMBERTON. 


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PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


A  LYRICAL  DRAMA 


BY 


L.  B.  pembp:rton. 


DRAMA  TIS  PERSOX.S. 

Prometheus.  Movintain  Nymphs. 

Hercules.  Naiades. 

Demeler.  Dryades. 

The  Muses.  He&perides. 

Eouian  Nymphs.  Nymphs  of  the  Air. 

Invisible  Spirits  of  Evil.  Spirits  of  the  Deep. 

Scene  —  A  wild  and  desolate  peak  in  the  Caucasus  IMounlains. 


■*•' . 


FRANKLIN,  OHIO: 

THE   EDITOR    PrBLI.SHING   COMPANY. 

1896. 


Copyright,  1896, 

The  Editor  Publishing  Company, 

franklin,  ohio. 


PREFACE, 


Of  all  the  fables  of  antiquity,  the  legend  of  Prometheus  has 
ever  attracted  considerable  attention,  not  only  on  account  of  its 
great  beauty — for  many  others  are  perhaps  even  more  justly 
celebrated  in  this  respect;  but  also  because  of  a  sublimity  of 
conception  and  simplicity  of  treatment  barely  approached  in 
any  of  the  others. 

Here  we  realize  that  we  have  been  brought  into  contact  with 
a  character  whom  we  take  pleasure  in  remembering,  and  whom 
we  can  scarcely  forget. 

Of  late  years  an  extended  and  scholarly  inquiry  has  been 
made  into  the  meaning  and  origin  of  these  old-time  myths,  and 
it  was  in  casually  looking  over  the  result  of  some  of  these  in- 
vestigations that  I  was  struck  more  forcibly  than  ever  with  the 
full  scope  and  significance  of  this  particular  legend. 

The  grandeur  of  the  brave  old  Titan  as  he  defied  the  anger 
of  the  tyrant  gods  and  resolutely  maintained  his  affection  and 
anxiety  for  the  poor  race  of  oppressed  mortals — who,  under  his 
careful  guidance,  had  increased  and  prospered,  but  were  now 
threatened  with  extermination, — all  this  is  a  picture  which  in- 
vites our  consideration  and  commands  our  admiration. 

Be  it  blasphemous  or  not,  I  am  forced  to  admit  that  the  whole 
stor>'  seemed  to  me  an  ideal  exemplification  of  that  eternal 
struggle  between  man  and  his  fate — his  hopes  and  aspirations 
matched  against  that  inevitable  power  that  baffles  his  best 
efforts  and  continually  renders  his  exertions  for  the  most  part 
in  vain. 


PREFACE. 


Prometheus — who,  with  the  Greeks,  was  the  God  of  Fore- 
thought— to  me  looked  more  aptly  the  Spirit  of  Progress,  des- 
tined at  last,  after  ages  of  bitter  struggles  and  keenest  suffering, 

"  To  lead  the  upward-tending  world, 
Thro'  glorious  futures,  onward  to  perfection." 

According  to  the  legend,  this  onward  movement  of  the 
human  race  was,  in  this  olden  time,  indefinitely  deferred  on 
account  of  the  confinement  of  its  leader,  Prometheus,  who  had 
been  condemned  to  lie  for  ages  on  a  remote  peak  of  the  Cau- 
casus. From  this  condition  it  seems  there  was  absolutely  no 
escape  until  from  the  West  a  champion  should  come,  break  the 
chains  of  tyranny,  and  set  Prometheus  free  forever. 

The  champion  prophesied  for  this  event  was  Hercules,  which 
still  further  strengthened  the  analogy  in  my  own  mind,  as  it 
naturally  recalled  the  fact  that  Franklin  had  aptly  chosen  Her- 
cules as  the  emblem  of  the  infant  republics  of  America. 

Looking  at  the  whole  subject  from  a  nineteenth  century 
standpoint,  and  through  the  glamour  of  a  republican  atmos- 
phere, the  legend  now  took  upon  itself  the  following  inter- 
pretation : 

Prometheus  became  the  God  of  Progress,  attended  by  the 
nymphs  of  Liberty.  He  had  been  left  to  languish  for  ages  in 
the  remote  mountain  fastnesses — unnoticed  by  "these  so-called 
gods  reputed  of  superior  mould."  But  now  from  that  far- 
distant  land  beyond  the  "  Islands  of  the  Blest,"  a  champion 
arises  with  a  new  dictum — "  that  all  men  are  created  equal  a^id 
endowed  by  their  Creator  with  certain  inalioiable  rights — amo7ig 
which  are  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness T  This  truth 
is  too  new  for  its  real  significance  to  be  fully  appreciated  at  the 
present  time ;  but  as  the  swiftly-rolling  years  recede,  this  event 


PREFACE. 


will  rise  into  bolder  prominence  and  be  recognized  as  one  of 
the  most  important  landmarks  in  the  history  of  the  world. 

No  extensive  claims  are  set  up  for  the  following  essay — to 
which  these  few  words  are  intended  as  a  preface, — as  no  at- 
tempt has  been  made  either  to  reproduce  the  lost  play  of 
iEschylus  or  to  imitate  those  other  equally-splendid  poems  of 
later  times  bearing  upon  the  same  subject ;  but  it  is  sent  forth 
simply  as  an  eflfort  of  academic  days,  when,  daily  worried  with 
Greek  accents  and  inflections  while  conning  over 

"  The  glon.'  that  was  Greece 
And  the  grandeur  that  was  Rome," 

one  naturally  feels  like  seeking  relief  from  the  one  by  vainly 
striving  after  the  other. 

With  these  few  remarks,  showing  the  plan  and  nature  of  the 
work,  the  reader,  if  curious,  is  invited  to  proceed. 


ACT  I. 

Scene—.-/  wild  and  desolate  peak  in  the  Caucasus  Mountains.  Prome- 
theus is  discovered,  bound  to  a  rocky  cliff,  where  for  ages  he  has 
tain  confined. 

Prometheus  (solus). 

Ab,  miserable  me!  tbus  doomed  by  Fate 

And  heaven's  unjust  decree  to  linger  out 

An  everlasting  life — ceons  of  woe, 

Constrained  to  this  high  rock  with  massive  chains 

Of  iron  and  adamant,  stronger  than  man 

Or  mortal  strength  could  ever  hope  to  bear. 

O  thou,  bright  Sun  !  whose  swift,  unfettered  beams 

Earth  and  the  depths  of  air  doth  permeate ; 

Thou  gentle  Wind  !  that  with  unhindered  course 

Glides  o'er  ihe  fruitful  land  and  wave-crisped  sea; 

And  ye  bright  Stars!  that  o'er  my  bended  head 

Shine  nightly  in  unnumbered  throng,  look  down 

L'pon  me  in  my  woe — e'en  tho'  thy  glance 

Doth  pierce  and  burn  me  to  the  core  with  shame 

Of  my  condition,  once  as  free  as  thine 

Grant  ye,  at  least,  from  these  unanswering  depths 

Of  desert  air  that  swallow  up  my  groans 

And  cries,  some  breath  of  sympathy  may  spring; 

Let  me  but  feel,  ye  friendly  elements. 

Some  other  soul  beats  kindly  to  mine  own, 

And  fain  would  share  some  burden  of  my  woe. 

And  yet  I  grieve  not  for  the  pain  I  feel. 

That  racks  this  wasted  form  of  mine — wasted, 

Alas!  for  ages — but  immortal  still ; 

Nor  does  my  spirit  moan  the  glorious  shame 

Of  these  huge  chains  that  bind  me  to  the  earth — 

All  these  a  soul  like  mine  can  scorn  ;  but  here's 

The  groan  that  rends  my  heart — to  lie  abject. 

Supine,  bound  hand  and  foot,  twixt  earth  and  heaven, 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


Yet  forced  to  waste  in  idleness  the  days 

And  years  away — this  is  the  fiercest  hell 

A  proud,  ambitious  soul  can  ever  feel. 

'Tis  this  that  makes  my  pain  no  pain  at  all, 

But  still  unbearable ;  'tis  this  that  loads 

My  chains  with  double  strength  and  makes  their  weight 

So  galling. 

Oh !  to  expand  this  cramp'd  chest, 
Stretch  out  these  close,  contracted  limbs,  to  take 
But  one  short  step  upon  the  soft,  green  earth. 
Erect  and  free— as  gods  and  men  should  be — 
'Twere  better  than  a  whole  eternity 
Of  this  inert  decrepitude. 

Ah,  me ! 
Why  was  it  thus  that  I  should  suffer  worse 
Than  death,  and  yet  could  never  die  ?     But  soft! 
E'en  sorrow  hath  its  joys,  and  dear  they  are — 
Because  so  few — and  few  because  so  dear. 
By  gentle  whir  of  drooping  wings,  I  know 
The  dear  companions  of  my  woe  approach, 
And  with  their  presence  bring  a  joy  that  soothes 
And  dulls  the  edge  of  all  my  suffering. 
Thrice  many  thousand  times  hath  yonder  Sun 
His  daily  round  performed,  and  in  his  course 
Ruthlessly  scattered  ruin  and  decay ; 
But  ever  at  my  side  with  hopeful  words 
These  high-browed  maidens  of  the  mountain  sit — 
The  champions  of  my  cause ;  and  thus  we  see 
Oft-times  upon  the  cold  gray  rocks  of  woe 
There  blooms  the  tender  flower  of  joy. 

Chorus.  Hail !  hail !  we  welcome  thee, 

Although  we  shudder  as  we  see 
Again  thy  frown  of  agony. 
Ah,  me !  that  gods  must  feel  and  know 
The  grinding  heel,  the  curse  and  blow 
Of  tyranny. 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


Echo.         Thro'  the  clear  air  we  heard  you  speak. 

With  bated  breath. 
Thoughts  that  made  our  hearts  grow  weak. 

Dream'st  thou  of  Death? 
Keep  not  from  us  the  jewels  of  your  mind, 
But  speak  the  wisdom  we  ourselves  could  never  find. 

Pro.  The  thoughts 

That  stirred  my  breast,  whose  echoes  ye  have  heard, 

Are  not  so  doleful  as  they  seem,  though  death, 

Perchance,  should  be  their  theme.     To  mortal  eyes 

Death  is  the  height  of  all  calamities. 

Alas  !  how  gladly  would  I  now  cast  off 

This  outward  cloak  of  harrowing  renown, 

And  deem  it  highest  joy  to  cease  this  life 

And  sink  my  woes  in  Lethe's  oblivious  waves. 

If  mankind  knew  the  burden  and  the  pain 

Of  this  unceasing  immortality, 

They  would  not  raise  such  loud  and  piteous  moan 

For  what  soon  tires,  but  ne'er  can  be  disowned. 

Echo.  How  sweet  the  sleep  of  Death 

To  those  who  have  no  fear, 
Who  calmly  yield  their  latest  breath, 
And  sink  to  rest, 
Like  babes  at  breast. 
Without  a  pang,  without  a  tear. 

Hyale.  How  hard  the  bitter  lot 

Of  poor  mortality, 
If  toil  and  suffering  were  not 
Cut  short  by  Death's  decree, 
When  fretful  mind 
Is  left  behind 
With  pain  and  strife  and  penury  ! 

Chorus.      Oh  !  who  would  not  down  life's  small  stream 
Sail  out  upon  the  azure  Ocean, 
Entranced  in  Death's  delightful  dream. 


lO 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


To  the  source  of  being  and  of  motion  ? 
Who  would  not  keep 
The  hallowed  sleep 
That  crowns  a  life  of  pure  devotion  ? 

Nephele.  In  death  what  can  we  lose  ? 

For  life, 
Bound  to  this  earth 

In  strife 
To  toil,  or  worse — to  use 
The  days  of  dearth 
For  naught  of  worth — 
Has  nothing  much  to  lose. 

Pro.    To  me  death  were  a  joy  unspeakable 

Had  it  been  so  decreed  that  I  should  lie 
Forever  clinched  to  this  seamed  precipice, 
For  benefits  no  needy  man  bestowed ; 
But  thus  throughout  the  ages  has  it  been — 
Whoe'er  on  man  has  showered  a  precious  gift 
Has  drunk  the  cup  of  sorrow  in  return. 

O  Death  !  thou  magic  and  undying  sleep 
That  cures  at  last  the  deepest  wounds  of  pain 
And  woe,  enwrapped  in  thy  caressing  arms, 
O  what  a  heav'n  of  everlasting  dreams 
Our  disembodied  senses  doth  embrace 
And  soothe  to  endless  and  ecstatic  bliss ! 

Chorus.  Death,  physician  to  mankind. 

Who  heals  the  woes  of  troubled  mind ; 
Restores  the  deaf,  the  dumb,  the  blind ; 
Who  keeps  the  keys  to  towers  high 
Wherefrom  the  soul  at  last  may  spy 
The  meaning  of  life's  mystery  ; 
Releaser  from  fatigue  and  pain, 
None  ever  asks  thy  aid  in  vain — 
Tho'  many  reap  unsought  thy  gain. 
'Tis  not  so  strange  that  those  who  weep 
Seek  death  for  that  sweet,  quiet  sleep 
Which,  while  on  earth,  they  can  not  keep. 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND.  ii 


Pro.    This  suffering  of  mine  shall  have  its  end ; 
These  sad  and  hea\-)'  eyes  of  mine  are  not 
From  pining  sadness  due — they  but  reflect 
That  dim  and  immaterial  world  whose  dreams 
Become  the  stern  realities  and  facts 
Of  future  time. 

Chorus.  Nay  !  nay  !  but  tell  us  all. 

Shall  something  worse  befall 

To  give  thee  cause  for  grief? 
Our  hearts  are  torn  for  thee^ — 
Unless  we  mourn  for  thee 
We  can  not  find  relief. 

Pro.  Know,  then,  there  is  a  world 

Within  us  and  about  us,  which  the  eyes 
Of  common  kind  do  not  as  yet  discern. 
Like  clumsy  boulders  in  a  tinkling  stream. 
Some  souls  ne'er  feel  the  subtle  waves  that  surge 
From  center  to  circumference  of  this 
Great  Spirit-World.     Here  dwell  the  finer  joys 
That  taste  of  heaven,  and  here  the  deeper  thoughts 
Whence  spring  and  flow  in  swift,  concentric  waves 
The  sterner  truths  that  strike  the  heart  of  man. 
"Tis  this  unseen,  unreal  world  that  is 
Of  all  things— ay!  the  only  thing  that's  real, 
Tho'  hid  within  a  coarse  and  outer  growth 
Of  universal  falsehoods  and  enigmas. 

Chorus.  O  world  mysterious, 

Thou  art  so  near  to  us 
We  would  know  more  of  thee ; 
Thou  art  more,  it  seems, 
Than  a  realm  for  dreams, 

And  keepest  in  store 

The  deeper  lore 
Of  truth  and  deBtinj. 


ts  PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


Pro.    By  these  prophetic  eyes — whose  joy  't  has  been 
To  watch  the  massing  clouds,  the  drift  and  flow 
Of  these  dim  agencies  whose  mingling  forms 
Bring  forth  the  varying  offspring  of  events — 
I  see  strange  happenings,  undreamed-of  things. 
That  still  lie  deep  within  the  womb  of  time. 

Chorus.  Down  thro'  the  circling  years  of  time 

Thou  hast  seen  all ; 
And  many  things  perhaps  sublime 

Thou  couldst  recall 
Whose  meaning  we  could  not  divine. 

Thy  watchful  eye 

Not  only  viewed 

The  savage  land 
Fruitful  become  and  beautify, 
But,  with  thy  helping  hand, 

Saw  cities  rise 

From  hovels  rude ; 

Under  thy  care, 

Dull  man  grow  wise, 

And  wealth  increase 

Thro'  toils  of  war 

And  spoils  of  peace ; 
But  long  aeons  before 
When  first  old  Chaos  bore 

To  love  a  child 
Whose  mother — when  she  knew 
The  child  she'd  brought  to  view, 

And  that  it  smiled — 

With  horror  filled. 
Shrieking  perished  in  her  pain, — 
When  Order  into  being  came. 
All  this  and  more  hast  thou  beheld, 
Which  are  the  treasures  of  the  Eld. 
Pray  tell  us  of  the  long-gone-by, 
For  'tis  a  garden  to  our  eye. 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


Pro.    The  Past,  methinks,  is  an  unfruitful  theme, 
Unless  the  telling  o'er  may  teach  us  how 
To  read  the  Future  or  to  comprehend 
The  Now.  '.  Much  as  the  mind  may  love  to  It-urn, 
Wisdom  must  oft  to  pleasure  yield  the  palm  ; 
P'or  idlest  folly  is  at  times  more  wise 
Than  foolish  wisdom.  ..But  the  time  drags  on — 
My  leisure  hours  are  lengthened  into  years— 
And  as  the  looking  o'er  those  far-off  scenes 
May  make  us  overleap  our  present  woe. 
Say  what  thou'dst  know  and  gladly  I  will  tell. 

Chorus.  Almighty  ISIind— 

That  backward  throws 
Thy  glance  to  when  from  Chaos  blind 
And  Night's  black  heart 
The  universe  arose — 

How  wonderful  thou  art ! 

Pro.    r>oldlv  against  the  rise  and  wreck  of  worlds 

The  human  Mind  stands  forth,  sublime,  steadfast, 
Alone!     The  seasons  come  and  go;  men  live 
And  die  and  cease  to  be  ;  new  worlds  are  born. 
Grow  into  beauty,  wither  and  decay; 
The  stars  spring  forth,  then  fall  and  fade  awa}-. 
And  yet,  thro'  all  this  mighty,  ceaseless  change. 
The  Mind  as  if  from  some  high  eminence 
Looks  calmly  on,  unmoved,  unaltered  still. 

Chorus.  Wonders  of  all  wonders  on  earth. 

From  thee  they  all  have  their  birth. 

Pro.    And  yet  how  different  the  view  to  him 

Who  from  some  tall  unsheltered  height  survevs 
The  scene  entire,  compared  to  one  close  by, 
Who  in  the  valley  toils  and  merely  sees 
The  narrow  stream  as  it  rolls  nearly  by. 

Ere  man,  or  earth,  or  starry  sky,  I  was, 
And  from  the  whirling  elemental  mass 


14  PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


Of  Chaos  saw  one  by  one  the  seething  worlds 
Go  spinning  on  their  everlasting  course, 
Till  all  the  azure  archway  of  the  skies 
Was  fretted  o'er  with  fair  and  radiant  stars. 

Oh !  what  a  glorious  sight  'twas  then  to  view, 

Adown  the  long,  illumined  avenues 

Of  space,  the  onward  train  of  endless  worlds. 

The  first  great  step  was  taken,  and  the  march 

Of  evolution  had  at  last  begun  ! 

The  bud  of  life  had  bursted,  and  its  leaves 

Began  to  peep  beyond  the  husk  and  shell. 

Ere  long  on  these  infinitesimal  spheres, 
Which  writhing  suns  when  in  their  agony 
Threw  madly  off — of  which  our  earth  is  one — 
Behold  !  the  cooling  rocks  crumble,  decay, 
And  soon  luxuriant  foliage  springs  forth — 
Grasses,  and  trees,  sweet  herbs,  and  finer  flowers ; 
Then  later,  crude,  half- shapeless  moving  things 
Were  seen — precursors  of  the  human  form  ! 

Ages  on  ages  passed,  and  then  we  see 
Those  upright  figures  who  have  lately  been 
Like  human  beings  wand'ring  here  and  there — 
Whose  gaze  was  ever  upward  and  above  them — 
In  their  bewildered  minds  at  last  had  dawned 
An  inner  light  unlike  the  glare  of  noon 
Or  gleam  of  night — the  God  within  now  stood 
Revealed ! 

The  Ego  of  eternity, 
That  had  indwelt  and  woven  out  the  forms 
Of  ever  finer,  still-unfolding  life, 
Now,  thro'  the  thinner,  fair  envelopment 
Of  human  flesh,  shone  forth  at  last — divine ! 
Creation  was  complete  !     It  was  for  this 
That  Chaos  groaned,  and  fiery  suns  were  cooled — 
That  on  this  quiet  and  out-lying  world 
Might  germinate  the  last  and  highest  fruit 
Of  all  creative  toil — the  human  Soul ! 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND.  15 


Chorus.  O  grand  triumphal  hour  I 

When  man  first  felt  the  inner  power 

Of  consciousness  revealed ; 
When  low,  brutish  desires 
Are  purged  by  purer,  holier  fires 

Ere  then  in  man  concealed. 

Pro.    By  slow  and  tedious  steps  I  then  taught  men 

To  reap  the  fruit  of  knowledge — which  is  wisdom; 

Beneath  my  watchful  guidance,  too,  began 

The  useful  arts  and  sciences  to  flourish  ; 

But  now  the  tyrant  Zeus  doth  seek  to  stay 

My  course,  and  crush  man  from  the  earth  forever. 

Chorus.  And  yet  with  sorrow's  clearer  eye, 

.^nd  mind  replete 

With  varied  memory. 
The  clothed  moments  fly 

More  unperceiv^d  by, 

.\nd  seemingly  more  fleet. 
While  every  hour  can  borrow 

From  out  the  Past  some  gleam. 
There's  little  room  for  sorrow — 

Unless  it's  too,  a  dream. 

Pro.    All  this  and  more  1  have  beheld,  and  know 
Wherewith  to  profit  by.     Rut  here  I  lie — 
Bound  by  the  haughty  will  of  Zeus  thro'  Fate 
On  this  huge  rock,  unmoved,  immoveable. 

Chorus.  Is  not  thy  miserable  state 

The  fruit  alone  of  Zeus'  hate  ? 

Pro.    These  present  Gods  are  like  the  summer's  wind 
A  little  gust  which  blows,  and  then  is  not. 
There  is  a  mighty  Power  that  lives  behind 
And  moves  this  vast,  majestic  universe; 
Wrapped  in  its  own  impenetrable  mind 
Reposes  some  deep,  everlasting  scheme- 
Too  great  for  finite  minds  to  apprehend. 


r6  PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


This  scheme  lies  at  the  root  of  all  existence, 
Brought  systems  forth  and  order  out  of  Chaos. 
All  is  controlled  by  Fate,  the  stern  compeller, 
The  source  of  mind,  phenomena,  and  life. 
Within  the  circle  of  its  vision  keen 
Has  ever  widened  the  concentric  waves 
Of  human  thought  and  action. 

Chorus.  Now  my  mind  with  fervor  burns, 

Now  my  clearer  eye  discerns 

The  purpose  and  the  plan. 
At  last  we  can,  tho'  dimly,  see 
An  all-controlling  Deity 

Whose  hopes  converge  in  Man. 

Pro.  Yet  for  me 

Is  endless  pain  and  gloom  and  misery. 
Alas !  must  this  wide  earth  beneath  me  be 
The  toy  and  plaything  of  the  petty  few — 
Those  pun}-,  petted  nurslings  of  the  skies — 
And  forced  to  yield  always  to  their  mad  whims  ? 
Shall  god-like  Man,  whom  I  have  nourished,  be 
By  these  new  Gods  destroyed,  and  Tyranny 
Forever  reign  supreme? 

I  who  have  seen 
All  things,  can  only  pause  and  answer— Why? 
And  yet  I  have  but  lately  grown  to  doubt 
What  most  I  had  believed,  believe  whate'er 
Before  was  doubted— only  to  doubt  again 
As  soon  as  'twas  believed. 

Alas !  the  day 
Seems  ever  darker  than  the  night  it  ends, 
And  night  more  gloomy  than  the  morning  past. 
And  yet,  alas  !  I  must  endure. 

Chorus.  All  things  will  yet  be  well ; 

'Tis  only  for  a  spell 
That  clouds  can  hide  the  sun. 
Behind  the  night's  thick  gloom 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND.  tj 


The  sun  lies,  and  the  moon 
And  stars  must  vanish  one  by  one. 

Thus  roll 
The  days  and  years  away ;  the  roseate  dreams 
Of  years  ago  have  withered  and  decayed ; 
Bright  hopes  and  splendid  futures  have  become 
Sepulchral  mounds  and  nionuiuents  to  mark 
The  dim  and  shadowv  outlines  of  the  past. 
Alas !  that  we  should  ever  rise  on  heaps 
Of  shattered  hopes.     My  soul,  that  early  chose 
A  glorious  course,  now  feels  its  tir^d  wings 
Weighed  down  with  clay,  and  seeks  no  more  to  soar. 
Night,  with  its  gloom,  blots  out  another  day, 
And  still  for  me  no  sign — no  help — no  hope. 


r8 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


ACT   11. 

Scene — Same  as  in  Act  I.  Demeter  and  her  Nymphs  call  upon  Pro- 
metheus, complaining  of  the  unfruitfulness  of  the  earth  and  the 
general  discontent  of  Man. 

Chorus.  Hail !  hail !  all  hail  to  thee, 

Great  mother  of  Persephone, 
Who  makes  the  harsh  and  rugged  soil 
Yield  to  the  laborer's  honest  toil ; 
Who  follows  round  the  plodding  plow, 
And  crowns  the  faith  of  those  who  sow. 
With  harvests  bright  of  ample  yield; 
O  thou,  whose  hope  is  in  the  field. 
Whose  care  is  those  who  therein  ply 
Th'  unvaried  arts  of  industry, 
Thy  mighty  power  we  revere — 
Beneficent  Earth-mother  dear ! 

Dryades.  To  thee  we  come, 

Thou  Titan-son, 
Who,  chained  to  this  dread,  lonely  rock, 

Has  long  defied 

The  tyrant's  pride. 
Endured  the  storm  and  earthquake  shock ; 
Tho'  all  their  chains  could  not  confine 
One  thought  in  that  proud  breast  of  thine. 
Nor  bind  e'en  those  who  at  thy  shrine 
With  thoughts  of  Liberty  incline. 


Alas !  what  wealth  and  time 
The  world  lost  in  its  prime ! 
What  store  it  might  have  gained 
Had  Prometheus  been  unchained ! 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND.  19 


Oh !  how  we  mourn  for  thee, 

To  see  thee  lie 

Abject  and  torn 
Beneath  the  fangs  of  Tyranny. 

Pro.    The  joy  I  feel  at  thy  approach  is  less, 

Perhaps,  than  it  should  seem  ;  for  sudden  Shame 
Crowds  all  my  better  feelings  back,  and  Fear 
Unchecked  would  know  what  great  and  equal  cause 
Could  urge  thee  to  so  perilous  a  journey? 

Demetcr. 

Grieve  not  to  me,  God  most  beneficent, 

For  what  thou  seemest  to  be  nor  what  thou  art. 

I  know  thee,  and  familiar  is  the  cause 

Unjust  that  leads  to  thy  discomfiture — 

The  fault  is  not  thine  own,  and  those  who  bear 

The  fruit  of  others'  faults  should  not  be  shamed ; 

Besides,  I  have  good  cause  for  vent'ring  hither. 

Pro.    Much  do  I  crave  to  know  and  yet  I  fear 

These  heartless  tyrants  have  some  newer  form 
Of  tyranny  devised — I  dread  to  hear ! 

Demetcr. 

Alas !  'tis  deeper  than  mere  outward  form — 
The  malady  lies  at  the  root  of  things ; 
The  soil  concedes  no  more  its  wonted  yield — 
The  fruit  blights  in  the  blossom  and-the  leaves 
Fall  slowly  crisp  and  crumbling  to  the  ground. 
For  long  the  heavens  have  refused  to  give 
One  drop  of  moist'ning  dew  or  rain;  of  late 
Despondent  man  has  ceased  his  usual  toil 
And  slowly  waits  his  sure  extermination. 

Dryades.       Our  abode  is  stripped  of  its  leaves, 
It  stands  deserted  and  bare; 
The  earth  no  moisture  receives, 
But  burns  in  the  hot  sun's  glare. 


20  PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


Naiades.       The  streams  grow  shallow  and  dry, 
We  soon  must  away  from  them  flee 
Unless  the  Gods  hear  our  cry — 
They  surely  our  misery  see. 

Nymphs  of  the  Air. 

The  air  is  parched  and  hot, 

Our  gaspings  are  slower  and  fewer; 
Unless  relief  soon  is  brought 

We  can  not  much  longer  endure. 

Chorus.  The  future  as  the  Past  is  blind — 

No  cause,  no  course,  no  end; 
All  things  to  nothing  tend— 
Prometheus  is  confined ! 

O  Earth !     O  Time  !     O  Mind  ! 

O  Life  !     O  Misery  ! 

No  joy,  no  hope  we  see — 
Prometheus  is  confined! 

Invisible  Evil  Spirits. 

At  last  the  day's  coming 
When  Vice  and  Tyranny 

Shall  reign  supreme. 
Away,  ye  demons,  fling 
This  phantom  of  Liberty — 
'Tis  but  a  dream, 
And  dreams  must  be  destroyed. 
Quick!  quick!  let  us  begin 
The  long-deferred  triumph  of  Sin — 
Earth,  heaven,  should  be — a  void ! 
Demeter. 

Ah,  me !  those  dreadful  words,  they  drive  despair 

Into  my  soul.     And  when  I  daily  see 

The  toiling  millions  blindly  turn  to  heaven 

Their  dull,  despairing  eyes,  in  vain,  for  hope — 

While  aimlessly  they  wander  to  and  fro. 

Or  work  to  wear  their  useless  lives  away — 

My  sad  heart  aches  and  tears  rush  in  my  eyes. 


PROMETHEUS  UXBOUND. 


ai 


Dryades.  Alas !  the  piteous  sight ! 

How  sad  Man's  wretched  plight 
When  Tyranny  doth  reign  ! 

The  gifts  that  cheer  and  bless — 

Peace,  joy,  and  happiness- 
Man  seeks,  but  seeks  in  vain. 

Demrter. 

The  Father  groans  beneath  his  galling  load, 
Which  still  grows  more  and  more  o'erwhelming; 
The  mother  sighs  with  far  off,  vacant  look  ; 
E'en  babes,  with  sickly  voices  much  subdued, 
Make  poor  pretense  of  play  ;  while  awkward  youth 
Grow  up  to  feel  one  dull,  short  pang  of  love 
And  then — take  up  the  burden  of  existence. 

O  age  of  misery !  I  pray  thee  tell 

Where  is  there  cause  for  joy  in  life  or  love 

While  wretched  scenes  like  these  agrieve  the  eye? 


Dryades.  O  cruel  Fate  !  whose  harsh  decree 

Has  chained  the  force, 
The  cause,  the  source 
Of  Progress  and  of  Liberty! 

Chorus.  O  cruel  Fate  !  we  can  not  see 

The  course  and  end 
Towards  which  we  tend. 
But  blindly  put  our  trust  in  thee. 

Pro.    Nay  I  tho'  the  heavens  fall,  do  not  despair; 
There  is  a  course,  in  all  material  things, 
That  sprung  indeed  from  Chaos,  but  shall  not 
Thither  return.     I,  who  suffer,  have  learned 
To  look  with  greater  calmness  and  insight 
Upon  the  grief  and  suffering  of  others. 

I,  who  have  taught  mankind  to  strive  with  skill 
To  know  and  pluck  the  ripened  fruit  of  knowledge; 
I,  who  have  been  their  counsel  and  their  guide — 


22 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


Tho'  chained  for  ages  to  these  mountain  rocks, 
Unmoved,  immovable, — I  now  perceive, 
Unless  all  signs  and  prophecies  read  wrong, 
A  greater  gloom,  that  merely  doth  presage 
The  nearness  of  the  morning  light.     Ere  long 
These  chains  will  loosen ;  I  shall  be  released 
Once  more  to  lead  the  upward-tending  world 
Thro'  glorious  futures  onward  to  perfection. 

Dryades.       O  happy  day  !  vv-e  yet  may  rove 

Unhindered  thro'  the  shadowy  grove — 
Locked  in  the  arms  of  those  we  love. 

Naiades.       Then  shall  we  sit  by  cress^d  stream — 
Tell  o'er  our  loves  and  fondly  dream. 

Chorus.         O  joy !  we  have  not  hoped  in  vain, 

Or  treasured  up  a  fruitless  cause ; 
For  Right  shall  o'er  the  earth  yet  reign — 
Obedient  to  eternal  laws. 

Denieter. 

Art  sure  these  new-raised  Gods  will  be  o'erthrown  ? 

Pro.    Such  is  the  will  of  Fate.     These  so-called  Gods, 
Reputed  of  superior  mould,  must  fall 
And  bite  the  dust  they  now  so  much  disdain. 

Demeter. 

But  will  the  change  be  soon? 


Pro.  Sooner,  perhaps. 

Than  even  dreams  would  dare  to  prophesy ; 
For  daily  now  such  mighty  things  are  wrought, 
'Tis  plain  it  is  with  no  mere  common  means 
The  Fates  are  working  out  their  wondrous  will. 
Today's  the  greatest  day  in  history — 
It  marks  an  onward,  ne'er-o'ertakeu  step. 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND.  23 


Dtmetcr. 

But  tell  us  why  thou  hast  to  prophet  turned, 
And  what  good  reasons  lead  to  these  forecasts? 
For  faith,  altho'  of  higher  growth  than  reason, 
Dolh  still  require  this  lower,  baser  stock 
To  lean  upon,  for  then  it  feels  secure. 

Pro.      Thou  hast,  O  Earth,  but  a  mere  atom  seen 
O'  the  plan  by  which  creation  doth  proceed. 
This  earth  is  merely  to  the  realms  of  space 
A  sheltered  bay  for  few  and  shallow  waves 
To  drift  and  play  in,  while  the  Ocean  great 
Rolls  deep  beyond.     Ages  on  ages  past, 
One  grand,  mysterious  process  was  begun — 
Whose  final  work,  is  not  yet  done,     kl  first 
It  stationed  suns,  then  moulded  planets  dim 
And  made  them  fair  with  useful  plants  and  flowers; 
Wove  out  the  lower  forms  of  moving  things, 
Then  more  and  more  comple.\  and  perfect  types, 
Till  all  at  last  was  consummate  in  Man — 
Or  will  be  when  the  mighty  task  is  done. 

Demeter. 

Then  not  created  for  my  care  alone 
Was  Man  ;  he  is  to  hold  a  higher  place — 
The  climax  in  the  series  of  events! 

Pro.    Faintly  but  firm  the  print  is  seen;  towards  Man 
All  things  have  tended  since  creation's  dawn. 
The  flow  of  coming  ages  will  purge  out 
The  coarse  and  baser  elements  till  all 
The  taint  of  ancestry  shall  be  effaced. 
Until  the  Soul  shines  forth— a  perfect  gem! 

Demeter. 

But  after  all  these  years  of  toil,  when  Time 
Has  worn  away  the  traces  of  his  birth, 
Will  he  then  dwell  upon  the  earth  forever? 


24  PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


Pro.    Why  dost  thou  still  pursue  thy  questioning? 

With  knowledge  oft  comes  sorrow.     Wouldst  thou  drive 

The  Infinite  itself  unto  the  wall, 

And  call  the  unborn  ages  forth  to  speak 

Before  their  time  ? 

Demeter.  This  only  would  I  know ; 

For  have  I  not  the  keen  solicitude 
That  ever  lies  within  a  mother's  heart? 
I  ask  but  this. 

Pro.  Then  to  thy  sorrow  search 

The  hidden  things,  and  learn  what  is  to  be : 
A  few  short  years  will  see  Man  pass  away — 
The  earth  roll  cold  and  pulseless  thro'  dim  space, 
Like  some  sad,  lonely  moon — 

Demeter.  O  bitter  Truth ! 

I  know  thee  now  too  well — thou  art  but  gall ! 
Cruel  is  Fate — this  life  not  worth  the  toil! 
Ah,  woe  is  me  !  not  merely  that  I  am, 
But  that  I  know  I  am  a  thing  of  time — 
A  creature  born  to  struggle  and  to  die! 

Where  is  the  good  of  these  aeons  of  toil. 
Of  struggle,  pain,  and  slow  development — 
All  for  a  perfect  hour,  flee'ing  and  vain  ? 
O  Truth!  what  mockery  has  called  thee  sweet? 
Bitter  thou  art ;  to  me,  wormwood  and  gall ! 

Dryades.  Alas !  whene'er  we  rise 

Upon  the  swell  of  joy. 
Our  spirit  sinks  and  dies 
E'en  as  the  wave  rolls  by. 

Pro.    Peace,  peace,  for  shame !  Gods  should  not  grieve  like  men- 
Altho'  they  be  not  far  removed  from  them. 
The  gloss  and  finish  of  this  earthly  life 
Will  well  be  worth  the  toil  when  all  is  done. 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND.  aS 


A  glorious  end  will  surely  be  attained— 
Else  all  creation  were  a  failure  vast 
And  all  this  universe  most  incomplete. 

To  hurl  the  discus  further  at  a  throw, 

Or  shoot  the  arrow  nearer  to  the  mark, 

To  feel  the  blood  flow  quick  from  exercise — 

All  nerves  the  human  hand  to  still  reach  forth 

To  pluck  Perfection's  rare  and  vaunted  flower. 

Demeter. 

Indeed,  most  glorious  does  all  this  seem  ; 
But  Where's  the  glory  that  can  compensate 
In  any  measure  for  a  lack  of  living? 

Chorus.      Pray  tell  us  more  of  that  still  distant  date, 

When  Man  shall  thrive  in  his  perfected  state. 

Pro.    My  words— altho'  a  God's— can  not  describe 

The  more  than  heavenly  transports  of  those  times. 
None  then  would  think  these  travail-burdened  days 
Had  not  brought  forth  a  most  abundant  fruit. 
The  rank  of  tyranny  will  be  forgot; 
War,  famine,  strife,  and  pinching  poverty 
Will  have  become,  like  childish  toys,  outgrown — 
Diseases,  dim  traditions  of  the  past. 
And  all  this  flesh— now  vile— insensibly 
Have  lost  its  aches  and  pains,  and  grown  to  be 
At  last  a  fair  and  holy  temple,  fit 
r.        For  pure,  angelic  spirits  to  reside. 

Demeter. 

Scarcely  can  I  believe  such  wondrous  things 
On  this  sad  earth  will  ever  be. 

Pro.  I  know 

The  heart  that  ever  hopes  is  called  a  fool — 
Fit  only  to  be  duped;  but  sure  as  noon 
Succeeds  the  morn,  so  will  these  things  yet  be; 


36  PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


They  are  the  leaves  and  flowers  that  grow  forth 

In  proper  season  on  the  Tree  of  Life. 

We  now  are  blindly  toiling  at  the  roots, 

But  ages  hence  will  see  above  our  heads 

The  spreading  branches  and  the  ripened  fruit. 

Chorus.  O  glorious  day ! 

Earth  moves  along 
Upon  its  ever  upward-tending  way. 

With  joyful  song 

We  bless  each  day 
That  speeds  it  on  its  upward-tending  way. 

Pro.    'Tis  true  each  day  that  dawns  upon  the  earth 
Repeats  no  more  the  details  of  the  last — 
It  labors  now  with  new  and  great  events. 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND.  27 


ACT    III. 

Scene— 5aw<r  as  before.  The  Nymphs  of  the  Morning  inform  Prome- 
theus of  the  long-looked-for  Champion,  luho  has  at  last  appeared  in 
the  West. 


Eonian  Nytnphs. 

Over  mountain,  over  plain, 
Over  land  and  pathless  main, 

With  lightsome  steps  we  speed. 
Thro'  the  cool  and  dewy  air, 
Ere  the  last  star  fades  afar. 

Our  course  we  onward  lead — 
Making  the  way  for  Helios. 

Not  a  moment  may  we  waste, 
Round  the  earth  we  quickly  haste, 

With  signs  of  coming  day. 
Rosy  tints  and  gentle  sound, 
Spreading  softly,  far  around 

O'er  the  face  of  morning  gray — 
Making  the  way  for  Helios. 

Pro.    Maidens  of  the  morning  bright  and  beautiful, 

Seest  thou  iu  thy  wide  flight  aught  new  or  strange  ? 

Boreia.  So  swiftly  we  flee 

Little  leisure  have  we 
Man's  doings  to  see. 
As  we  hasten  by 
They  slumbering  lie — 
Dead  to  their  misery. 


28  PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


Austeria.  Where  silence  has  been 

I  lately  have  seen 
Activity  keen. 
Man's  slumber,  it  seems, 
Has  broken  in  dreams 
Newly  lit  with  strange  gleams. 

Eonian  Nymphs. 

Of  late  from  out  the  distant  West, 
Beyond  the  "Islands  of  the  Blest," 

A  champion  bold  has  come. 
With  valiant  arm  and  towering  crest, 
On — ever  towards  the  effete  East, 

He  nears  the  rising  sun. 

Pro.    Ye  rosy  nymphs,  whose  lips  are  pure  and  fair 
As  tinted  shells  that  drink  the  ocean  tide. 
Whose  murmurs  are  as  solemn  yet  more  sweet — 
Know  ye  the  glorious  day  is  not  far  hence 
That  shall  disperse  this  dark  but  waning  night! 
A  prophecy  there  was,  of  old,  which  once 
The  ancient  Titan,  Themis,  taught  to  me  : 
"  One  day  a  champion,  from  the  people  born, 
With  god-like  powers,  from  the  West  shall  come, 
And  break  the  cursed  chains  of  tyranny." 
Thus  doth  this  ancient  prophecy  come  true. 
Deliverance  will  be  ere  long  at  hand ; 
For  even  now  my  riven  chest  feels  not 
The  binding  staple's  thrall,  and  on  my  wrists 
These  once  huge  chains  have  shrunk  to  gossamer. 

Eonian  Nymphs. 

High  upon  the  Western  world, 
Behold!  new  colors  are  unfurled — 

The  Champion  appears ! 
The  cause  of  Truth  is  marching  on, 
The  world  each  day  is  being  won — 

With  spoils  of  other  years. 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


29 


Chorus.  The  sun  from  out  the  Eastern  ocean 

Shone  dimly  thro'  the  night; 
But  from  its  later,  higher  station. 
It  floods  the  earlh  with  light. 

Echo.  Daylight  first  dawned  on  Orient  shores ; 

But  wiih  the  growing  light 
It  westward  moved,  and  thus  the  East 
Was  shrouded  first  in  night. 

Nephele.  Another  day  has  dawned— 

A  brighter  than  the  last: 
It  casts  a  brilliance  forward 
And  a  shadow  o'er  the  Past. 


HyaU. 


But  other  days  shall  brighten, 

Better  far  than  this. 
Man's  toil  and  burden  lighten. 

And  life  will  seem  not  all  amiss. 


Pro.    Upon  the  Eastern  shores  Empire  first  stood, 
And  westward  still  has  traveled  with  the  Sun, 
Until,  e'en  as  the  setting  sun  throws  back 
Upon  the  tired  world  a  softer  glow — 
A  holier  light,— so  now  the  pensive  hours 
Of  this  serene  earth-twilight  has  begun, 
And  early  morning's  barbarous  strife  must  cease. 

Chorus.  But  speak  to  us  that  secret  word 

That  has  been  kept  so  long  unheard. 


Pro.    That  secret  dread,  before  whose  awful  power 
The  race  of  tyrants  tremble  and  shall  fall, 
Is  but  the  secret  of  the  Multitude! 
Who  soon  shall  simply  and  sublimely  say: 
"  All  power  is  of  us,  and  is  ours  alone." 
This  even  now  seems  borne  upon  the  breeze, 
And  madly  strives  for  force  and  utterance. 


3° 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


Chorus.  Would  we  could  wreathe 

In  proper  lines 
Th'  elusive  thought 

That  Man  divines, 
And  fain  would  breathe — 
But  yet  can  not. 

Pro.    Know  ye  these  songs  we  scarcely  breathe — these  thoughts 
i    We  only  to  ourselves,  half  smothered,  think 
'    Somehow  find  root  and  growth  it  other's  minds — 
Spreading  like  unseen  thistles  in  the  wind — 
Till  when  we  bravely  speak  them  out,  we  find 
The  same  from  other  lips  had  halfway  crept. 

Hyale.  There's  some  mysterious  chain 

That  binds  all  souls  together. 


Echo. 


Like  some  etherial  main 

Whose  waves  move  with  the  weather. 


Nephele.  As  zephyrs  from  the  rose-leaves 

Go  fraught  with  like  perfume. 
So  this  thought-wave  now  breathes 
To  Man  his  coming  doom. 

Pro.    Beneath  the  overhanging  mists  I  see 

E'en  now  upon  the  troubled  earth  strange  signs 
Foreboding  new  and  great  events.     To  heaven 
It  casts  no  more  its  old  accustomed  look. 


Chorus.  We  see  small  groups  of  men 

Talk  solemnly  awhile — 
Whose  looks  do  in  the  end 
Develop  into  smiles. 

Pro.    Long  have  we  waited,  but  ere  long  the  Earth 
Shall  see  the  full-blown  flower  of  its  hopes. 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND.  31 


Echo.  Out  in  the  distant  West— 

Where  Nature  yields  its  best — 

A  child  from  Tyranny  was  born. 

II  dreamed  of  Freedom's  might- 
Has  dared  maintain  its  right, 

And  holds  the  Old  World  up  to  scorn. 

Pro.    The  subtle  breath  of  this  sweet  Liberty 

Has  touched  upon  and  breathed  a  malady 
Into  the  sickly  hearts  of  human  kind  ; 
And,  like  as  poison  pricked  into  the  blood 
Drives  out  the  deadly  venom  of  disease, 
So  now  this  gentle  remedy  bids  fair 
To  cure  the  world  of  its  great  present  ill. 


32  PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


ACT  lY. 

Scene — Satne  as  before.  Hercules,  the  Chainpion  long-prophesied, 
arrives,  breaks  the  fetters  that  have  canfined  the  God,  Prometheus, 
and  sets  hitn  free. 

The  Hesperides. 

Out  of  the  far-off  West  we  come, 
Beyond  where  Atlas  holds  the  dome 
Of  heav'n  upon  his  shoulders  bare; 
From  out  those  glorious  gardens  fair, 
Where  breezes  whisk  and  whisper  low 
On  golden  apples  as  they  grow, 
Where  heav'n  inhales  the  rich  perfume, 
As  sumbeams  dream  on  Summer's  bloom — 
From  that  fair  land  we  come — we  go  — 
From  where  Earth's  golden  apples  grow. 

Dryades.  High  and  higher  still  we  climb. 

Far  above  the  oak  and  pine, 
Fleet  of  foot,  but  faint  of  limb — 

On,  and  onward  still! 
In  the  leafy  shade  we  lay 
Whisp'ring  loves  and  verses  stray. 
When  tones  of  a  sublimer  hymn 

Our  startled  ears  did  fill. 

Nymphs  of  the  Air.      Whither,  O  where, 
Thro'  these  unending 

Realms  of  air 
Are  we  now  tending  ? 

Is't  Destiny 
Marks  out  our  flight? 

Blindly  we  fly — 
On — thro'  the  night. 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND.  33 


Demeter.     Even  as  the  peaceful  sky  that  heralds  oft 

The  deadly  hurricane  or  earthquake  shock, 
So  now  the  hushed  world  appears  to  me. 

Spirits  of  the  Deep. 

Something  has  stirred 

The  depths  below ; 
The  Earth  has  heard 
That  fatal  word— 

"  Liberty !  " 
The  heaving  sea, 

With  many  a  throe, 
Moans  "  Liberty  !  " 
The  despot's  pall ; 
The  cure  for  all 

Earth's  keenest  woe. 
Something  has  driven 

Us  out  of  the  depths 
Upward — towards  heaven. 
To  heights  more  sublime. 

With  faltering  steps, 
On  — upward  we  climb! 

Chorus.  At  last  the  glad  Earth  seems  to  smile- 

As  tho'  ensnared  in  Beauty's  wile. 

Pro.    Am  I  confined  here  still  ?     Do  these  huge  chains 
Indeed  weigh  down  my  limbs,  or  do  I  dream  ? 
Tho'  bound,  I  am  not  far  from  being  free. 

Chorus.  Ye,  whose  bright  eyes  reflect  the  Sun, 

Look  ye— behold  the  champion 

Now  climbs  the  rugged  height! 
He  nearest  to  the  Gods  has  come. 
And  in  their  presence  yet  shall  roam— 
A  shining  star  of  light. 


34  PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


Detneter. 

Prometheus,  now  is  thy  delivery — 
Altho'  the  weight  of  ages  has  withheld 
Thy  onward  course,  and  made  thy  soul  to  feel 
A  soaring  hope  chained  to  a  deep  despair, 
Rejoice,  for  now  thy  freedom  is  at  hand. 

Pro.    'Tis  well ;  and  better  is  it  to  rejoice 

And  drink  our  joy  from  Future's  gauzy  wing 
Than  fondly  wait  till  fickle  Time  alights ; 
For  then,  perchance,  the  honey  of  our  flower 
Will  turn  to  gall. 

Detneter.  Strike  up  the  joyful  sound',; 

Let  poets  sing,  and  music's  lofty  strain 
Proclaim  the  glorious  theme,  "  Freedom  to  Men ! ' 

Pro.    Like  all  good  things  in  life,  the  best  comes  last. 
Tho'  tardy,  it  is  welcome  none  the  less. 

The  Muses.  From  Tempe's  vale 

And  Helicon's  lone  shrine 
Again  we  spring. 
Long  used  to  wail. 
O'er  cold  neglect  to  pine, 
Once  more  we  sing. 

A  nobler  strain 
Of  new  and  better  themes 

Breathes  from  the  Past. 

The  highest  vane 
Of  human  hopes  and  dreams 

Is  reached  at  last. 

Not  Helen  fair 
Nor  old  Eneas'  name 

Now  loads  our  tongue; 

The  deeds  of  war, 
The  hero's  single  fame 

Has  long  been  sung. 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND.  35 


Not  one  brave  heart 
Nor  one  fair  woman's  face 

Now  stirs  our  wings; 

A  higher  art 
And  more  perfected  grace 

Seeks  grander  things. 

Too  great  is  Earth. 
With  all  its  hnman  needs 

And  hopes  unfurled. 

To  let  the  worth 
Of  one  man's  faith  and  deeds 

Eclipse  the  world. 

For  centuries 
A  silence  we  mav  keep 

Like  that  of  death  ; 

Then  waking,  rise 
To  chant  those  dreams  of  sleep 

Willi  waking  breath. 

This  life  of  ours 
But  inspirations  are 

On  which  spring  forth 

PVoni  heavenly  bowers 
The  thoughts  and  things  too  rare 

For  worldly  birth. 

We  pause,  perchance, 
We  sleep,  but  never  die. 

Each  new  return 

Marks  an  advance- 
Higher  the  course  we  fly, 

Fiercer  we  burn. 

No  idle  dream 
Now  wakes  our  lyre  again 

In  tender  call ; 

Henceforth  our  theme 
Will  be  not  Man-  but  Men  ; 

Not  one     but  all. 


36  PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND. 


We  hail  the  star 
That  heralds  better  things 

And  grander  deeds ; 

Ancestry's  scar, 
The  envious,  bitter  stings 

And  poisonous  seeds. 

That  choke  the  earth 
And  stint  the  heart  of  Man 

Must  now  give  way. 

We  sing  the  birth 
Of  Freedom's  generous  plan — 
Of  Manhood's  sway. 

Hercules. 

At  last  I  see  before  my  eager  eyes 

The  glorious  task  for  which  I  was  brought  forth. 

Ages  have  groaned  and  waited  helplessly ; 

Bvit  now  behold !  the  might)'  deed  is  done. 

Beneath  the  yoke  of  unjust  tyranny 

The  leader  of  mankind  shall  bow  no  more ; 

I  break  the  chains — behold  Prometheus  free ! 

Chorus.  Break,  break  the  cursed  chains 

And  let  the  God  be  free. 
Ivet  tyrants  know  'tis  not  in  vain 
We  seek  for  liberty. 

Nymphs  of  the  Air. 

Take,  take  the  glorious  news, 

And  bear  it  to  the  sea. 
Where  one  doth  gain  the  many  lose — 

All  lose  when  none  are  free. 

Spirits  of  the  Deep. 

Wake,  wake  the  sound,  ye  waves. 
And  bear  it  o'er  the  sea  ; 

Fovil  tyrann}-  is  in  its  grave. 
And  Man  at  last  is  free. 


PROMETHEUS  UNBOUND.  37 


Dryades.  Breathe,  breathe,  ye  forest  leaves. 

That  spread  on  every  tree. 
The  Earth  her  highest  hope  receives— 
Behold  Prometheus  free! 

Pro.    Earth,  Air,  and  Sea.  and  all  ye  living  forms 
That  dwell  in  either  realm,  and  e'er  can  feel 
A  sense  of  joy,  come  now  ;  rejoice  \vilh  me  I 

Hercules. 

The  highest  deed  that  human  hand  can  do 
Has  now  been  done.     The  shackles,  old  as  time. 
That  have  weighed  down  and  bound  the  limbs  of  Man 
Lie  wrenched,  broken  and  pow'rless  at  his  feet. 

Demeter. 

The  world  is  free  ! 

Pro.  And  this  is  liberty  ! 

How  sweet,  let  those  who  taste  and  feel  its  joys 
Alone  declare— none  else  can  estimate! 
How  joyfully  my  lungs  drink  in  these  draughts 
Of  heavenly  air,  and  all  my  soul  expands ! 
Could  all  men  taste  the  sweets  of  liberty. 
What  a  gigantic  stride  the  world  would  take ! 
And  so  'twill  be. 

The  mighty  Ananke 
Of  ages  past  hath  now  redeemed  our  hopes. 
And  shown  itself  to  be,  blind  tho'  il  seemed— 
In  truth  we  were  the  ones  that  could  not  see 
That  stern  Necessity,  whose  deep-laid  schemes 
Unsparing  force  alone  could  consummate. 
Force,  Fate,  God— call 't  what  ye  will,— 
It  has  its  mighty  purpose  to  fulfill. 
And  is  the  source  and  end  of  all  things  still. 


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